


Wake me up

by naden



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Bisexuality, Blood Magic, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Rival Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-13 20:53:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naden/pseuds/naden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Champions are made not born. Victory is never granted - it awaits only the strongest ones. And the only way for a mage to feel the real power, is to bathe in blood of his rivals. So they say, but the reality can a bit more complicated...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> I spent few days back in Thedas this summer, and it occured to me that I had never (ever) written any fic for Dragon Age in my life. It was the highest time to change that!
> 
> Story is mainly based on the DAII (and sometimes DAO), but I let my writer's imagination do its work, so:
> 
> -the dialogues might be longer and/or changed
> 
> -there might be some differences in the official chronology (though I'm not sure - it may depend exclusively on how you have played it)
> 
> -I changed some missions, because of the story plots - mostly added more details, which weren't in the game, to make it more interesting and lively (let me be honest, I'm a big fan of DOA, and what the did to its sequel was a...huge disappointment, to be polite)
> 
> Of course, the world and its habitants don't belong to me. :)
> 
> Enjoy

The evening has come and passed. The bottle is almost empty yet Fenris knows his problems are not gone. A former slave living as a free man in a Hightown residency. And all that thanks to the mage, who decided to help. Oh, sweet irony. He should have killed her right away, that first night they met, instead of showing gratitude. There's no gratitude or mercy for any mage walking this earth free. Now he knows that. Only it is much too late.

Not many people really know Hawke. They know a refugee girl who fled her country in fear of the Blight. Righteous, just, always willing to help and defend those, who can't do that themselves.

Few can tell what she is like in the battlefield though, or rather - few who witnessed it survived.

Fenris had seen it countless times.

Their first fight together, as team - he remembers it all too well. It was getting hot. The lyrium on his skin was burning him as if to the bones. Surrounded and separated from the rest - no arrows, no magic. Fenris prepared for the worst silently cursing those indolent 'friends' letting him die in some shithole before even getting close to Danarius when he heard loud explosion and realised he's all covered in hot blood of his opponents.

At first he didn't recognise her - she was so different from the usual caring Hawke he knew. The smile was gone and the grey eyes were burning with a strange power.

'Quickly. The victim is in danger.'

He ran after her watching spells massacre enemies on their way, leaving unrecognizable pieces of meat scattered around. And when there was no one left to fight he saw her approaching rescued woman.

'Shhh... It's alright.' The ruthless apostate was gone. 'You're safe now.' Calm and gentle Ferelden girl was there again.

Eventually he got used to it. They were an uncommon group of individuals after all. A beardless dwarf - pathological liar and excellent cards player - with his crossbow wife. An apostate healer bound to a spirit of justice with his soul, which explained his uncontrollable rage outbursts but not his peculiar fondness of cats. A female pirate captain without her ship but with selection of deadly knives and lots of dirty jokes. A widowed warrior, remarried to her job and steel of her sword - occasionally turning a blind eye on the team's behaviour and joining them in fight. And finally, escaped ex-slave with lyrium tattooed all over his skin and no memory of former life.

So he guessed Hawke wasn't so special after all. She just did what she was asked or paid for. Not that it always went according to Fenris's plans. Helping mages was in her blood and they were arguing about it on every possible occasion. Or rather he was making angry comments while she tried to defend her brothers and sisters. But it was a certain kind of routine like Varric's jokes with 'Blondie'. There aren't many things that bring people together more than an expedition to the Deep Roads or countless nights spend together at the Hanged Man. Though Fenris would never admit it out loud, he grew attached to all of them a little.

And then the simple serenity of that life suddenly disappeared.

He didn't know if it was because of that cursed daelish elf or he just haven't noticed it before. But the first time he saw it he was terrified.

He stood right beside Hawke trying to protect the rest of the group from hordes of animated corpses. Their archers were bloody good as for a pile of bones and rotten skin but nothing he couldn't handle. Bianca did her job and mages duo successfully cleaned whatever was left. It was easy, too easy somehow. They should have known corpses don't just wander around on their own. The sudden explosion of force pushed them against the wall. The ground opened and a demon of pride arrived accompanied by several burning wrath demons.

Fenris quickly evaluated the situation: few broken ribs and deeper cuts but nothing deadly. Varric was already standing - few things could actually eliminate dwarf this tough from a battle. The problem was Anders lying unconsciously on the ground. Their only healer wasn't going to be much of a help for some time. He turned around to check up on Hawke and that's when he recognized it. The red glow around her body - he wished he was wrong but he had seen it countless times during his life in Tevinter. She was leaning against her staff, painting heavily. Her usual rock armour was gone - she must have used all of her powers to help her remain in standing position. So now there was only one thing she could resort to. Blood magic.

Cold shivers run down his spine, droplets of sweat showed on his forehead. The first day of his new life flashed before his eyes: coldness of his naked body, fear, disorientation, pain - unimaginable amounts of pain - and his master's eyes glowing red with blood power.

'Let's do it.' Hawke slowly raised her head and Fenris realised her eyes had the same colour.

His fear was immediately replaced by anger. The next few minutes were blurred. His moves were subconscious, driven by sheer rage he felt. He cut demons as if they were Hawke - as if he could have ripped her apart. He accepted her apostate status - even if it meant going against his rules - he joined her, they became companions. For Andrasta's sake, he even flirted with her! Another bitter disappointment. But he wouldn't let anyone hurt him again. So as the last demon's fell down slain he immediately turned to Hawke. The red glow around her was slowly fading as was her magic power presumably - she could no longer stay straight and fell helplessly to her knees. That didn't stop Fenris from coming at her.

'You-' He growled. 'You filth-' There were no words at the moment that could have reflected his contempt.

Hawke didn't respond. The wound on her head was bleeding heavily, her robes were destroyed and her hands - they were red with blood she sold to the ancient demons.

'Was the gift you were born with not enough for you? Was it your pride? Or more like greed?' Fenris was merciless. 'You're no different than all the magisters I know, so you deserve the same fate. Welcome the inevitable-' He raised his enormous sword ready to strike a final blow when an arrow hit the steel knocking it out of his hands.

'Watch it, Fenris.' Varric came out of the shadows, dragging half-conscious Anders with him. 'Hawke just helped us win this fight. Consider yourself lucky Blondie is no condition to understand what's going on. He wouldn't be as forgiving as I am.'

A muffled snarl escaped Fenris' mouth but he knew his chance was gone. He turned his back on the rest and headed home.

'Go home. Sleep it over.' Varric's voice stopped him once again. 'In the morning you'll know what to do.'

Still, the sleep resolved nothing. It only brought doubt, as did the next few days he spent in quiet and darkness of his mansion. The memories weakened his will. Killing Hawke was no longer an obvious solution. The wine on the other hand seemed like a good way of escaping it all.

But the problems are still there and his head aches badly. He can't get the image of Hawke out it. Bleeding and powerless, kneeling on the ground - she doesn't remind him of proud Danarius or cruel Hadriana. It doesn't change the fact that she's a maleficari, though, and even if she does control her powers and uses them to protect, it can always change. Mages are only people, with all their weakness and sins. He wouldn't watch Hawke turn in one of the ruthless magisters. He couldn't.

The empty bottles stand beside him and through the window he can hear the first morning birds starting their songs. The headache is gone and he understands. Apparently years spent in Kirkwall made him attached to his companions more than he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are short but I have one more written in advance. (It happens to me for the first time, yay)
> 
> My in-game Hawke, even if a bit 'sketchy' to my liking, was a huge inspiration for me. The concept of a righteous blood mage, with a second, more primal and dark nature was really worth deepening, in therms of character and background story. So I changed few things - hope you won't mind. I just really wanted to show the dualism of her personality impeccable hero reputation against the agressive and wild passion (in therms of sexuality but not only) on the inside.
> 
> Ahhh, enough of my talking already!
> 
> As always, the world and its habitants don't belong to me. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

The Hawke mansion isn't enormous but spacious enough - filled with living people and warm lights. He's greeted by Hawke's mother, who remains polite but watches him carefully. She points him the direction to her daughter's room saying she had been informed about the guest and leaves him be, though Fenris is sure she still observes him from behind some corner. He goes upstairs and knocks on the big wooden door.

'Come in.' The voice calls from behind them.

Hawke stands at the window, her back turned to Fenris. In her casual clothes she looks like a regular citizen not a dangerous maleficari, though her favourite staff lies closely beside her bed - presumably 'just in case'.

'Hawke.' Fenris greets her, hoping she would turn to him, start a conversation and help him get through this, but none of this happens.

'You're...' He tries another time, but the right words aren't there. 'Your mother was looking at me quite suspiciously. Like she feared I would steal a family coats of arms as soon as she disappeared around the corner.' This has nothing to do with the matter he wanted to discuss, but it works. Hawke turns herself away from the window smiling slightly.

'She wants me to marry as soon as possible. I guess she's checking upon every possible candidate.'

'I doubt she'd find me suitable for the position.' Fenris returns the smile.

'Wait till she discovers you wanted to behead me.' The temperature in the room immediately drops. Hawke's eyes are fixed on him but there's no warm in them anymore.

'Is that so?' Fenris frowns. He wanted to be polite, leave his anger and proud outside the door. But that woman - she's just too stubborn for her own good. 'Maybe I should inform her about your little deal with daemons first? So that she knows why you're coming home drained and almost dying.' He feels rage speeding his heartbeat, pumping in his veins. 'What did you tell her? Mother, I need rest, I think I've caught a cold?'

'That's none of your business!' She yells and Fenris knows he got her. The mask of politeness is broken and he can see burning fury throughout its pieces. They're on the battlefield know and he's dealing with a daemon.

'Every damn blood mage on the way is my business.' He stays tough. 'Whatever is feeding on you - I'm not scared of it. You can tell it your pact is over.' He wanted to make it better, tell her he cares and find some other way. But she brought that upon her. Fenris slowly pulls out his sword - a beautiful elven artefact Hawke got him after the expedition - but she stops him in the middle.

'I made no pact with a daemon. I'd never do that.' Now he's confused.

'The lies won't make it different. I have to do it.'

'It's not a lie. Look at me. Just look at me!' She shouts. And he does. 'What do you see?' He sees a young woman, almost a girl, but not anymore. The years they spent in Kirkwall changed her on the inside, though her look stayed the same. Big feline eyes, a bit crooked nose and short hair, white as his own.

'What do you want me to see?' He slowly loses it. 'Don't play with me!'

'Have you seen my mother, my brother? Sure you did. Then it doesn't take a templar investigator to tell we're not alike. I'm pale, I don't have my mother's eyes nor my father's dark hair. I'm a Hawke's girl but not his firstborn daughter.' The frankness of that confession strikes him. She sure was different but he never put the pieces together, never done any assumption. He didn't care. 'And since I remember I could do this.' She quickly reaches the small dagger suspended on her belt, before Fenris can react, and stabs her own veins. Then her eyes turn red and familiar glow surrounds her figure. He curses himself, cause he just got tricked and knows it'll be a tough fight now.

But Hawke doesn't attack him. She slowly pulls the dagger out of the wound. And suddenly Fenris notices how the droplets don't fall down but rise up to create a small 'bullet' - like an energy projectile normal mages use. Then all the blood boils and burns turning into a fire ball lighting up the room with a warm reddish tint. At a click of Hawke's fingers it disappears.

'It was...' Beautiful, he wants to say, but keeps it to himself.

'You have to believe me, I'd never harm any of my friends or family. But I won't hesitate to use it against enemies. And no one will ever stop me from doing that.' The sparks in her eyes tell him it's true.

'It's all noble and good, Hawke' He mocks her. 'but you're just a human. What happens if you fail?'

'Then I'll count on you to do the right thing.'


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last pre-written chapter, guys, but I'm not steping away from my keyboard. :)
> 
> I like this part, 'cause I've managed to 'implant' some parts of my Grey Warden history into the fic. Do you know where does the quotation come from?
> 
> There's also a bit of fluffy Varric/Merrill - the pairing that definitely deservs more love - and implied Hawke/Arishok :D (fun, fun, fun!)
> 
> Of course, the world and its habitants don't belong to me. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

They don't talk about none of it again and everything slowly returns to the previous state. Since the comeback from expedition and reclaiming Hawke's nobility status, their little group gets some recognition. The coin's better, work not so dirty (not any less dangerous, though) and there's much more free time to spend. So every other free evening they meet at the Hanged Man to drink, play cards and simply appreciate the slow pace of life in the Lowtown. As 'brooding' as Fenris might be (according to Varric) he likes those nights filled with laugh, Isabella's dirty jokes, which make Merril blush and choke on her drinks, the never-ending gossips on every possible topic and lots of alcohol.

That's one of the evenings, when he leaves his mansion and takes a slow walk to the Hanged Man. The weather's perfect, warm with a perfectly clear sky and round moon shining brightly upon it. A big sword speaks louder than any words, so he can enjoy that without worrying about local thugs. But as he is about to set a foot in the tavern, someone's firm hands grab him from behind, shutting his mouth and drag him away to the dark corner. He feels a warm breath on his neck smelling sweet and spicy... and he recognizes it.

'What the hell got into you, woman?!' He yells as Isabella frees him.

'Shh...!' She puts hand on his mouth again and looks around in panic. 'I've sent a message to everybody - didn't you get yours?'

'I've got it but have you ever seen any tevinter slave reading?'

'Oh, boy... I knew I forgot something. Nevertheless, we have to go. Now.' She takes his arm and drags him to an alley behind them.

'Will you stop touching me, already?!' He whispers furiously. 'And what's going on actually?'

'Okay, okay, I'll tell you everything in a minute, just move, please, and don't start glowing or whatever it is that you do...'

'So?' He asks after a while. 'What did you steal this time?'

'Is it that obvious? Really?' She sounds a bit disappointed. 'Well... Let's just say there was a guy who... dropped something couple of years ago. I found his... thing but sold it right away. He arrived in Kirkwall this morning and will be leaving soon, so if I play it smart he'll never know I'm here.'

'But what did you-... Wait.' He shakes his head. 'Forget I was asking. I don't want to know.'

'Good boy. You're learning fast.' She winks. 'So tell me - how's the life in a posh mansion?'

'Better than I expected, actually. Except for some tax collectors frequently knocking on my door. I presume I'll have to do something about that soon.'

'Tax collectors, you say? Hmmm... Maybe I might be able to help.' She catches his attention.

'What do you want for it?'

'Want?' She asks with a fake astonishment. 'You wound me, Fenris.'

'Really.' He says and Isabella laughs.

'I might or might not ask you for a favour in the future.' She smiles meaningfully. 'But I'll wait for the right time and occasion.'

Fenris starts regretting, that he ever asked about it when they suddenly stop.

'Oh, here we are, at last. I hope, the rest is already waiting.' Isabella starts walking towards the door that look strangely familiar.

He looks around and can't believe his eyes. They're in the Red Lights district, outside the Blooming Rose. Fenris doubts anyone of the group would show up in a spot like that, but as he arrives in the brothel's main room, he has to admit he underestimated his companions. They're all there, sitting at a big table, laughing and drinking. Even guard-captain Aveline stands nearby talking to some rather gaudily dressed gentleman, giggling and blushing like a little girl.

'Look who's here!' Varric shouts and everybody turns their heads into his direction. 'Isn't that my favourite broo-'

'Shut it, Varric.' He says with a smile. 'Is beer any good?'

'You bet, elf. Those Hightown bastards know what they're doing.' Dwarf raises his glass and drains the remaining half of its contents in a single swig. 'Make it two.' He waves at a scantily clad maid.

The night spent at the brothel, though full of fun, makes him aware how lonely they all are underneath armours, without swords and spells. Every single one of them lost something that was irreplaceable, whether it was a hometown, a clan, a ship, a brother, a husband...

'She reminds me a great deal of my friend, you know?' Anders' voice interrupts his thinking. Fenris supposes the mage is just drunk, but the look on his face is strangely sober.

'Who does?' He asks being quite sober himself.

'Hawke. Look at her.' He smiles. Fenris notices his companion standing nearby with Isabella and some elven woman, having rather...flirty conversation by the looks of it.

'Did you really travelled with a Ferelden Hero?' He never believed it any more than one of the Varric's stories, but something tells him there's more to it than a simple lie.

'Not before the end of the Blight. Those times I only know from her stories. But as a commander she saved my life and made me one of the Grey Wardens.' Anders sighs heavily. They're not considered best friends on a daily basis but this time Fenris decides to stay quiet and listen to the mage's story. 'She was an elven mage from the Circle, you know? Sure you know. Everybody in Thedas heard it. Heroic Grey Warden - righteous, brave and vigilant in the times of treason and despair. Let me tell you one thing, though, she certainly knew how to have fun.' Anders pauses and Fenris catches a glimpse of Hawke disappearing in some private room with two other women.

'Rumor has it she even conquered king Allistair's bedroom.' He adds.

'I asked her that one evening. There was no Justice to hold me back at the time, or should I say, he wasn't sitting in my head.' Anders replies thoughtfully as if he is trying to remember it in every possible detail. 'She suddenly stopped smiling, you know? And said that one wise person told her once that... Wait a minute, so I don't make a mistake...' He stops for a seconds to think. 'A Grey Warden cannot afford to be selfish. You may be forced to make a choice between saving your love and saving everyone else, and then what would you do?'

It's just a story and stupid quote but it gets Fenris thinking as if the question was meant for himself. He's no Warden and there's nothing left in this world he could love, but if there was - what would be his answer?

'She said at the time there was no thinking of anything but surviving and ending the Blight. If there was something that made life more bearable, she took it, knowing there could be no tomorrow for regrets or second thoughts. But eventually the time came and-... I just think she really loved him, you know?' Anders looks at him and Fenris notices something strange in his eyes.

'Wait a minute... you weren't hitting on the Hero of Ferelden, were you?' He just can't believe it.

'Well, not exactly, I-ah... Yes.' Anders blushes and Fenris bursts into laughter. 'I told you, there was no Justice to stop me. I was sure I'd never see Karl again and she was quite a-... Oh, forget it. I think I blew all my chances that night and never tried again.' He joins Fenris in laugh like their usual quarrels never happened.

'Then what about the noble lady Hawke here?' Fenris asks ironically.

'I've got my Justice friend to keep company and give me some more important tasks than chasing skirts and pants.' Anders sighs and Fenris almost pities him at the moment. 'Besides, I think she gets enough attention...form both sides.' Mage smiles again.

'Is that so?' He never noticed that before.

'The look on Arishok's face as we came to the qunari camp?' Anders makes it sound like a perfectly obvious thing.

'What about it?'

'Boy, he was looking her up like he left all the rules of the Qun code buried deep in Par Vollen. And she did not disapprove. Haven't you seen?' Anders giggles about his own joke.

'Some people are actually paying attention to the work they were commissioned, Blondie.'

'Speaking of which, I see someone needing medical attendance.' Across the table there's Merill, who's face colour is rapidly turning from green to blue, supported by Varric. 'I think she's had enough, hasn't she?' Looks like the four of them are the only companions left at the main hall. There's no sign of Aveline and Fenris notices that the private room's door remain closed.

'Let's get her outside, shall we?

Whatever's in Merril's stomach doesn't stay there long but after she's finished she looks a bit healthier.

'Okay, it's time to go home then, Merril. Come.' Anders takes her arm but Varric opposes.

'Nah, I'll handle it. You did enough already, Blondie.' He lets Merril lean on his arm. 'Besides, it's the same part of the city for me.'

'Okay, then. Just give her a bit of hot water mixed with these.' Anders pulls a small pouch from his robes and hands it to the dwarf. 'Ensure she drinks it all and goes to bed. Tomorrow she should be fine.' As the two of them move away they can hear Merril's weak voice interrupted by hiccups.

'You're a -hic!- good man, Varric, -hic!- you know that?'

'I know, girl, I know.' They disappear around the corner.

'Some magical mushroom powder there, eh?' Fenris smirks as they part their ways.

'Are you in need of escort and herbs too, my friend?' Anders ripostes scathingly.

'Nope. I'm good.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> New chapter, as promised. It seemingly doesn't add nothing new to the story, as it is based on the dialogues from the game. But we all know the most important things are hidden between the spoken word. ;)
> 
> Of course, the world and its habitants don't belong to me. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

'So the seneschal's tax collector won't be coming again like you asked'. Isabella says. 'Funny story-'

'I'll pass. But thank you for the help.' Fenris stops her. It is better to leave those kind of stories for the drunk evenings. Still, he's really surprised how quick she got taken care of that.

'Spoilsport.' She smiles. 'Why you want to squat up here in Hightown is beyond me.'

'I like the view.'

Isabella stands up and looks him up in a more than intimate way.

'So do I.' She turns and heads for the door, when the other unexpected guest arrives. Hawke. That's unusual. Two women pass by each other and whatever Isabella does at that moment makes the mage suppress a giggle. The image of them with elven maid locking themselves up in a private room flashes before Fenris' eyes, making him a bit uncomfortable.

And there she is. Their dear leader, saviour and cause of most of their troubles, Lady Hawke. He wonders what kind of important matter brings her to his mansion, but she's silent.

'Three years' He starts then, suddenly being aware of the time that has passed. It seems like only a moment since she rescued him and he offered her his service. When did that all happen? 'There's still no sign of Danarius. I'm beginning to wonder if he's finally given up.'

'This is his mansion, isn't it? He must know you're here.' She finally speaks.

'Would you be surprised to learn that it isn't, in fact, his mansion?' He catches her attention. 'It belongs to a Tevinter merchant, one who has evidently given up on the place. Perhaps he is dead.' Of course he is. 'Perhaps Danarius killed him. Either way, if Danarius is aware of my presence, he has done nothing.' It has been bothering him since a long time. Is it a trap? Or does his former master wait for a moment of Fenris' carelessness?

'Isn't this what you wanted?' She has him there.

'Yes, but...' That's one of the questions he wasn't able to answer since he moved here. 'Tell me: what do you do when you stop running?' Hawke doesn't say anything at first.

'You start over.' She states somehow uncertain. 'Isn't that what you want?' Another damn question that makes it all even more complicated.

'I don't know how.' Fenris admits with a bit of unwanted sadness in his voice. 'My first memory is receiving these markings, the lyrium being branded into my flesh. The agony wiped away everything. Whatever life I had before I became a slave... it's lost.' He stops, noticing more was revealed than he wanted, but Hawke still looks at him attentively, making him uncomfortable for the second time this day. He stands up. 'I shouldn't trouble you with this. My problems are not yours.'

'You don't know, who you were?' She seems genuinely surprised.

'Fenris was the name Danarius bestowed upon me, his 'little wolf.' If I once had another name, or a family... then they were taken from me. But, again, this is not your concern.' There's an awkward silence for a moment.

'I might be able to help with your problems.' Hawke says after a while in a tone he has heard before. 'Or give you a few more.' She gives him a little smile.

'More problems than you normally do, I assume.' He says a bit harshly, but soon after remembers the promise he gave to Hawke the first time she visited this place. Practice his flattery. He'd never had occasion to. The woman he found 'capable' turned out to be a blood mage in front of him. Since that, he kept the matters strictly professional. But here she is, in his chair, smiling at him in a quite ambiguous way. Practice his flattery? He's never been good at it.

'You're a beautiful woman, Hawke.' He tells the truth instead. They might have had their arguments and fights, but it doesn't change the fact he finds her appealing - not only in the physical way. With her pious look she could probably fool Andraste herself, but paradoxically it's her inner force, dark and aggressive, that pulls him in. 'Is there no one else who has your...attention?'

'Do you see anyone else here?' She reposts a bit vaguely. If Anders told him the truth, the woman might be a spirit of Ferelden Hero in person. He's seen her yesterday at the Blooming Rose and Hawke knows it. Yet she still wants to play. And Fenris accepts the rules.

'I'm an escaped slave and an elf, living in a borrowed mansion. None of those things bother you?'

'And I'm an apostate refugee. Does that bother you?' Hawke smiles and there are tiny sparks in her eyes.

'You have me there.' She knows exactly what she's doing. 'You raise an interesting point... I'll have to consider it. But, that's enough about me. You came here for a reason, haven't you?' He breaks the tension, not without satisfaction, but even if she feels disappointed, she's good at hiding it.

'Yes, of course. There's a job, in fact, and I'd need you, Anders and Varric for it. The problem is, I couldn't find our dwarf at the Hanged Man and Isabella has to stay low for the next couple of days. Do you happen to know, where he is? Cause it's like he disappeared into thin air after yesterday.'

'Oh, no, he's fine. He's just got some more... personal matters to take care of. As the head of Tethras family, that is.' He smiles wondering if 'taking care of sick friends' just got the second meaning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Revievs and comments highly appreciated! :)


End file.
